


Never Paint A Moustache on a Warrior Princess

by Kamouraskan



Category: Xena: Warrior Princess
Genre: Breaking the Fourth Wall, F/F, Humor, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-11-26
Updated: 2017-11-26
Packaged: 2019-02-06 21:42:35
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 6
Words: 16,904
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12826701
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kamouraskan/pseuds/Kamouraskan
Summary: Aphrodite fulfils our heroes' wish and swaps their bodies, leaving their abilities and a joke moustache in place. But it’s their Season One emotions, in Season Five bodies. Can an angry six foot Gabrielle rescue a talkative blonde Xena?





	1. Chapter 1

**Disclaimer:** This story uses characters from the television show Xena: Warrior Princess. There is no copyright infringement implied. Several bards aided me in this story, but for their sakes I won’t name them this time **.** Not even Lawlsfan.

 **Spoilers:** This was written while watching season five, therefore occurs during that time and refers to incidents from several episodes. There are no prizes for guessing which ones.

 **Danger! Warning!:** Two women in Love! With each other! Horrors! PG 13

 **Warning:** Serious Joxer bashing. I’ve just read three stories where he and Gabrielle are a couple and in reaction to that I think he may die at the end of this one. Painfully. Should I also mention I saw Married with Fishsticks just before writing this?

 

Chapter One

 

This is a story about a nice day

And it really was a nice day. Cloudless, with an amiable breeze gently wafting through the leaves, brushing against the birds singing in the trees.

And the bards hanging in the trees.

A rope squeaked slightly. A bard fumed dangerously.

“Gabby? When’s Xena coming back?” a whining voice behind her inquired.

Gabrielle closed her eyes. “Shut up, Joxer.”

All in all, it really should have been a lovely day.

Gabrielle looked up along the rope that suspended her from the tree. She’d managed to shift the knots around her buttocks again so that there was some circulation returning. The breeze continued to blow her gently back and forth.

“Gabby?”

“Joxer? **Please**. Shut up.”

The radiant sun continued to benevolently kiss all of nature’s creations.

The Bard swiveled to expose a different glorious aspect to Apollo.

“If you’re interested, I’m just about done on this side now, Xena!” she called to the wind.

The only response was another whine from Joxer. Which is a kind of wind. “Do you see her?”

Gabrielle took another breath. “Joxer. Please stop trying to swing, it tightens the ropes. Remember?”

“Sorry, Gab.”

I suppose the reader may be wondering why Joxer and Gabrielle are suspended by ropes, hanging from a tree. First, let me assure you that it does not involve some incredibly complex attempt at the reproduction of any little Joxers. In fact, let’s quickly try to pretend that that subject was never raised.

<shudder>

You see, once upon a time there were these several barbarians. They didn’t have any names because no one cared, and besides they were all the same. Their mother’s didn’t even waste sequential numbers on them. The leader was a gross, smelly and hairy character I will call Drock after a character from a long ago favorite show, Blue Rainbow. <This was a television show run at six in the morning, about two green apparently retarded men, who were kept in a cave under a storyteller’s house, who came up periodically to be chastised by her. It was funded by various Ontario government agencies, so I assumed it was designed to promote out-patient home care, or to disorient all night partyers into kicking drugs.>

Where was I?

Oh yes. Well, these barbarians weren’t the smartest guys in the world, but they were capable of noticing that their behavior on a certain day was, unusual. Changing their vocation, riding east and then west, deciding to become pirates, falling asleep in caves, well, it all seemed suspiciously, well, not them. Spontaneity was something they left to the various organisms that inhabited their nasty bods.

So they had eventually figured out that a certain strawberry-blonde might be behind their unusual behavior. Probably she was a powerful sorceress, and that could come in handy. The fact that she was blonde and cute seeped into their thoughts as well. But it took some time for then to catch up with her, as she had changed her hair style and been dead and all.

Now, having two years to work out a plan had been necessary for guys whose first language involved the exchange of spittle. Over this period, they had glommed onto the fact that staying away from a certain warrior princess was of primary importance, and worked out that the enchantress should be sleep darted from a distance. They had gotten a little too close though, because soon after Xena had left to get supplies, Gabrielle’s last thoughts before succumbing to the drug, was that there must be a sick goat, or perhaps a dead cow nearby. The darts struck Joxer too close to his brain to have any effect, but he was subdued in his traditional manner. <He got up to defend Gabrielle and fell on his nose, which is also a fair distance from his brain, but nevermind.>

Observing Joxer’s fighting skills or lack thereof, worried Drock. There seemed to be little cause for the feared warrior princess and her sorceress to need him. In fact Drock had gotten the impression that the ladies pretty well handled everything just fine by themselves. <Hehehe>. So he assumed that Joxer was valued as some sort of jester or fool, a position that Drock’s mother had once hoped he might aspire to. But to her regret, he and his brothers had gone into the barbarian business, probably because there were no professional hockey teams in their area.

So they had hoisted the unconscious couple, <Oh, there must be another way of putting that? Let’s try again.>

So they hoisted the beautiful, unconscious sorceress and the village idiot/fool into the trees and prepared to persuade the enchantress to work for them. Well, no sooner had Gabrielle become conscious and aware of Drock’s deplorable stench when she was also cognizant of the distant but familiar sound of hulking thugs being slugged and/or brutally killed with a well-known élan.

She took in the situation and her maddening inability to participate in a moment, and looked down on the figure of the puzzled barbarian leader. Of course, puzzled was a perpetual expression that Drock had worn since birth, but Gabrielle assumed he was worried about the sounds coming from the woods. Drock had fortunately assumed that 15 barbarians in the bush, would keep one bard in the hand, and was unaware that he was down to seven and counting.

“Six.” corrected Gabrielle. <Thanks.>

“Huh?” said Drock.

“Five” Gabrielle cocked her delicate ears to the wind. She was definitely getting better at this.

“Huh?” said Drock, which gave Gabrielle a clearer idea of what she was working with.

“I’m counting how many men you have left in the woods,” she said honestly.

Drock smiled. He even tried to snigger, but this broken tooth caught his lip, and it ended up more of a chortle. “I have....” ‘ _Quick; one hand, and one hand, and the foot with all the toes is...._ ’ “Fifteen.” He smiled triumphantly.

“Four.” Gabrielle corrected again.

Drock held up his hands again. Five, and five, and then he reached down to undo his boots. Gabrielle realized that whatever the rest of Drock smelt like, there was a real danger to all wildlife if his boots came off. So she hesitated, but gritting her teeth, thinking of the Greater Good (and attempting to clench her nostrils), she said:

“Three.”

Now Drock felt he was on the wrong side on an auction. Her numbers should be going up. She obviously didn’t understand higher math. So to educate her, he bent down and began the amazingly laborious job of unlacing his boots. The laces were buried in the grit and manure somewhere, he knew.

Not wanting to be left out of her partner’s fun, and for the sake of the nearby animal life, Gabrielle attempted to create enough momentum to swing and knock over the barbarian while he was distracted. Unfortunately, Gabrielle was not up on Newton’s Laws of Motion, <maybe because she’d been busy lately, what with changing her hair and being dead and all, or because Newton was not available, even in the screwed up timeline of the Xenaverse>

Anyway, she started a similar action/reaction to occur in her <what’s another word for companion but is totally disassociated?> well, the other person hanging on the ropes. Anyways, just as she was almost at the perfect arc, she discovered, not for the first time, exactly what sort of dead weight Joxer really was.

Drock looked up to see Gabrielle collide head on head with the idiot, and even he was amazed at the loud thwack that occurred as their skulls struck. Glassy eyed, Gabrielle shook off the small stars and birdies and called triumphantly to Drock. “Two!”

Well, either she had miscounted or was now hearing double, because the warrior princess, having had her fun <remember her? She’s in this story, really!> came striding out of the woods. Drock was paralyzed by the sight of her. The strong firm thighs, the muscular bronzed torso, the mustache painted on her upper lip....

So transfixed was he by this spectacle, that he was still staring at the ink goatee on her chin, when her fist connected with his own chin, and he was no longer a major character in this story.

The solid blow to his own head having brought Joxer back to what he referred to as ‘consciousness’, he immediately called out with relief, “Xena!”

The princess simply glared at both of the human pendulums, and after looping a rope over Drock, (carefully, so as not to invite any of his little friends aboard) began to haul him off. Without a word.

As Joxer swung past Gabrielle, he gave her a sickly smile. “I think she found out about your little joke, Gabby.”

The mustache? Sorry, sorry, sorry. Forgot about that little detail.

A few weeks before, Gabrielle had undergone a form of analysis with Aphrodite to find a cure for her Bard Block. After a lengthy series of flashbacks, and a completely unnecessary pie fight, she had somehow come to the conclusion that what she needed to do was undertake a search for her Inner Child. She had tried to explain this to Xena, but had gotten as far as the phrases ‘personal exploration,’ and ‘inner journey’, when the normally stoic warrior, who had heard all of this midway through season four, began to moan and even whimper a little.

Taking offense, Gabrielle had decided to begin her inner search by getting back at a certain tall dark and deadly individual, who, (though she loved her more than anything,) still had periods of smugness that drove her crazy.

Most plans were discarded quickly. What could you do to a pregnant warrior princess? But then they were busy fighting off various Gods, killing Zeus, having the baby, seducing Ares, defending Amphipolis, yadda yadda, and things sort of got postponed.

But the thought continued to gnaw. Nibble. Burn.

And it had to be subtle. Something that would inspire no paybacks that Gabrielle was unprepared to pay. Simply, say, placing snakes in a bedroll was not going to accomplish anything, especially if they were sharing. And she could hear that irritating flat monotone going: “Gee Gabrielle. Look. A Snake. I AM Sooo Frightened.”

(Of course, insofar as bedrolls were concerned, Joxer was still always offering to share his, but then he was still clueless as to why he slept so soundly after one of Xena’s neck massages.)

So, the night before this story begins, our two and a quarter heroes had been settled in for bed around a dying fire. Gabrielle had looked up from her futile attempts at writing, to hear the unfamiliar sound of Xena snoring. Not your light, inhaling and exhaling with a grumble. But a guttural, ground trembling, is that an earthquake? palate quivering, pig’s death-rattle snort at the end, category 5, type snore. Certainly the recent events had exhausted the warrior, and she had left Gabrielle on watch, but after experimentally throwing a few peas into the gaping maw and getting no response, Gabrielle realized that she had the unusual situation of a completely unconscious and defenseless Destroyer of Nations on her hands.

This was new.

Now, Gabrielle knew in her heart that this indicated that a huge amount of trust had been placed in her hands. Trust that could not be abused. She turned back to stare at her blank scroll.

She wrote, “It was a dark and stormy....”

The blocked bard cursed. Looked over at the face of the Warrior Princess. Looked at her quill.

Shook her head.

Nope, that would be wrong.

The snoring continued, if possible, even more obtrusively.

Gabrielle smiled and picked up the quill.

*          *            *            *            *            *            *            *            *            *            *            *

So, finally we’re back to the opening. Let’s see. Gabrielle and Joxer are swinging from the tree, the barbarians are dead or being hauled back to town, and we have a seriously pissed off Warrior Princess with a permanent ink mustache and goatee drawn on her face. Oh, and Gabrielle still hasn’t written any new stories for a while. That’s all, right? Okay...

At this point Aphrodite appeared. <Why not?>

Wearing her usual diaphanous silks, and a pair of horn rimmed glasses, she stood beneath Gabrielle and smirked. “Hey Sweet cheeks. What’s up?”

Gabrielle bit back a retort, and gamely smiled at this jest. (After all, she is a friendly Goddess, hasn’t attempted to kill any babies lately, and she represented a way down from the tree.)

Oh. Have I mentioned how hot Gabrielle looks suspended, with all her muscles tensed, sweating slightly? Well, if I haven’t, it’s because Joxer’s drooling over her has taken any enjoyment out of it. Maybe if Aphrodite would just get rid of him.....

“Hey Jox, How’s it hanging?” Oh damn, I forgot. She LIKES him!

Joxer tried to show his most engaging expression, the sheepish look, but then stopped when he remembered how easily insulted the sheep had been by it the last time.

Gabrielle held out her bound hands, smiling appealingly. Something that she’d had a great deal more success at than Joxer. But the Goddess shook her head.

“I’m not here to help you down, I’m here to help you understand why you’re up there.”

“I think I understand the principle pretty well.” Gabrielle indicated the ropes circling her waist.

Aphrodite adjusted her glasses. “Not really. You see. You took your repressed anger about your writer’s block out on Xena because you secretly blame her for it.”

Gabrielle closed her eyes. “Couldn’t we be discussing this in a nice warm bath of white chocolate?” she suggested through gritted teeth. “Because I really don’t think I blame Xena for my blocking.”

Aphrodite materialized a high backed chair, and lay back with her legs crossed, <nah, I’ll let that one go...>and again adjusted her glasses. “Think about it, Gabrielle. You couldn’t write on your scrolls, so what DID you write on?”

“That’s really a brilliant insight, and I truly appreciate you bringing it to me, but...”

“But what you still don’t understand is why Xena walked off and left you here, right?”

That wasn’t quite what Gabrielle was going to say, but she let it slide. The Goddess continued. “You figured there’d be some kind of payback, but this seems all out of proportion, right?”

That WAS true.

“How did you think Xena feels about having a mustache on her face?”

Personal appearance and the Destroyer of Nations? “Xena doesn’t care what anyone thinks.”

“Most people...no. But why do you think she’s been doing those exercises to get rid of the flab since the kid was born? Why was she so grouchy when you had to adjust her armor to fit it?”

Where was this going? “Because she wants to get back into shape.”

“Warrior babe was kicking ass right up to dropping the kid. She never got out of shape. Gabs, there’s only one person who Xena tries to look hot for. And when that person...”

“...drew a mustache on her...” Oh God’s, Gabrielle thought as the dinar dropped.

“There you go.”

“Oh God’s.” The bard said out loud.

“So, should I just send you the bill?”

“Is she really upset...hey, wait, what bill?”

“Oh you know me, I’m pretty flexible...” The Goddess stretched to prove her point.

“Where is she now?”

“Let’s see.” Aphrodite materialized what appeared to be a small hand mirror, except that it had clear glass in the centre. Staring into it, she began to intone: “I see Tammi, and Billy, and ooh! Look what they’re doing....ah, there she is. She’s all by herself in the local Tavern. Awwwww. Oh wait, she’s not alone, there’s a bunch of guys all scrunched in the corner, too scared to look at her. Oh, and I guess she tied up some guy who did, and how creative! She didn’t use any rope!”

“What did she use?”

“His own arms and legs.”

“Was he double jointed?”

“I guess... Now he is....”

“Oh.” Gabrielle hung her head.

The Goddess looked up at Gabrielle. “And you know what’s she’s thinking? She wondering if you really think she’s that butch. She thinks she may not be feminine enough for you.”

“No!”

“Oh yeah! Score one for the Love Goddess, huh? Oh and here comes my cue....”

Gabrielle became infuriated at this nonsense, after all, she was stuck in this tree, and her partner was hurting. “What cue, you’re not going to sing are you? Because the only problem we have is that...”

The Goddess watched in anticipation as Xena’s lips moved in sync to Gabrielle’s words.

“...she doesn’t understand what it’s like to be me...” They echoed. And Joxer was blinded momentarily by a brilliant flash.

“Oh yeah!” The Goddess exulted. “Now, am I good, or what?” The chair, mirror and Goddess evanesced with only a “Later!”

Joxer looked over to see that he was now sharing the tree with a strung up, dark haired, six foot, leather clad warrior.

“Xena? How are you guys going to work things out if you’re hanging in a tree? Where’s Gabby? Why would Aphrodite just go and have you guys switch places?”

Gabrielle blew a strand of long dark hair out of her mouth. “That’s not exactly what she did, Joxer...”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The first thing that Xena noticed was that the table seemed to have gotten larger. That the mug of non-alcoholic cider she had been sipping slowly (while glowering at the world in general) seemed bigger. That the aching in her breasts had disappeared.

She stared in wonder at a familiar scar on her right hand and remembered when Gabrielle had received it. Remembered several hot nights that had been launched with her lightly tonguing it. She reached up and touched the short hair, knowing that it must be blonde. She pondered this seriously for a moment. All that this meant. That Gabrielle was most likely hanging in a tree, and that she no longer had the responsibilities of nursing her child.

She immediately snapped into action.

“Barkeep!” she called out in Gabrielle’s musical tones. “Get rid of this horse piss and get me something REAL to drink!”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Joxer would have liked to have asked more questions, but there seemed to be this evil chortling coming from the woman hanging with him. A sound that made him fear the worst. He knew in his groin what Aphrodite had done. He was sharing the tree with the evil warlord Xena. A woman who would slit his throat just to wet her blade for sharpening. He began to try to imitate a leaf.

Gabrielle felt the energy of this body flowing through her. Energy she remembered from a brief moment in a cave with ambrosia. At the time she thought it was adrenaline. Now she realized that this was the permanent condition Xena lived with, and it felt great! She swayed for a moment, then with the extra eight inches of height, pushed against the tree. The force of the recoil astonished her, and yet her reactions were lightening fast and she found herself landing and balancing on an upper branch. She chortled again, not knowing or caring about the effect this was having on Joxer. A flex of her back muscles and her familiar breast dagger popped up to be caught, and the ropes were easily sliced through.

Holding the breast dagger with delight she called “I said I’d get this back some day!” Then standing on the branch reveling in her stature and leathers, Gabrielle crowed. That was enough for Joxer. He could control his blubbering or his bladder, but not both.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Magically changing her form hadn’t made Xena any more likely to be elected Miss Popularity by the rest of the denizens of the tavern, which for some reason seemed to bother her. Why were they staring at her so unfriendly like? The muttering had changed a little upon her transformation, but they were all still crouched against the wall nearest the door, and happy to be there, too.

Xena’s plan to savour her first drink in almost a year hadn’t gone well though. Xena was presently engaged in a futile battle to convince Gabrielle’s tastebuds that they actually liked the strong port she was drowning them with. As a response, the taste buds had brought in the reserves: the stomach. Or more accurately, they were trying to bring it up. Xena had not commanded an army for 10 years just to be defeated by a simple body rebellion. She began to remind the stomach that it had in its time been responsible for eating things that a goat would have placed cautiously aside.

She finished off the port with a flourish, and choking slightly, decided it was time to go rescue her body and her partner. It was at this point that she remembered that Drock had removed Gabrielle’s coin purse, that she had then removed it from Drock and that now all of their cash was probably hanging with a certain bard in a certain tree.

Now she found herself worrying that the landlord wouldn’t like her. And she did hate it when people were disappointed in her, didn’t she? Why did she have this overpowering desire to talk? Unless...But Gabrielle wasn’t like that, not anymore. She’d learned to control it... Years ago. Just like Xena had learned to control her darker impulses... There is a lightbulb moment and the warrior slumped down in her seat again. The sounds that escaped her lips were an old untranslatable obscenity, but for the moment we’ll pretend that she basically said “Oh oh.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

It was while replacing the breast dagger that Gabrielle first became aware of a certain problem.

“Joxer. I have to find Eve. NOW!”

Wanting more than anything to cooperate with the figure of death looking down at him, Joxer began babbling his cooperation and assistance. “Why... whatever, ah, happy too! What can I do?”

Gabrielle’s answer was curt and to the point. “I need to nurse a child. Quickly.” Now, this was information that Joxer’s, well, let’s call it a brain for the moment, was overwhelmed at hearing. Those cells which did not immediately faint at the prospect, were stomping about yelling “Yeah!”

“Well, I’m your boy!” he started. Gabrielle grabbed the rope he was attached to and began to haul him to her level.

“Get that thought out of your mind, or I’ll reach inside your skull and do it for you!” she snarled.

Joxer finally gave up and fainted.


	2. Chapter 2

Where were we?

It was still a nice day. Really.

Now in that time, in that region, there were shepherds...ahh, but that’s another story. There were also three very specific individuals who were quite interested to discover that a certain blonde was presently near Potadaia. Each of these had arranged to be enlightened should the former bard ever pass through.

Now our first nefarious character was a dark and mysterious enchanter... and we’ll call him....ahhhh...Tim. For completely random reasons, we’ll call him Tim. (Okay, so it’s John Cleese with an ourrrrrageous Scottish accent, dressed as Fu Manchu. If you hadn’t noticed yet, I’m stealing from everywhere.)

Tim’s interest in Gabrielle dated back to a story she had once told about being attacked by a vicious rabbit. His interest in the rabbit dated forward to the vastly technologically superior 5th century where he had originally come from. Quite correctly, he blamed this bunny for his presence in the primitive past as he had traveled there by that well known and traditional method of following the bunny and falling down a rabbit hole.

(The same rabbit would later on lure a mathematician named Dodgeson to this same fate, though by that time the immortal bunny, had grown fat, no longer tried to tear our throats, and had become somewhat obsessive about time. But that’s another story too.)

(But while we’re on the subject of favorite children’s stories? Lately I have this nightmare about ubers. You know. Young spunky, talkative girl comes into the life of hard but strong older woman? Shows her what love is? If any Bards out there are considering doing an Uber based on Anne of Green Gables, **Stop it Right Now**. Because I really don’t want to see Marilla and Anne getting it on. And I know that Joxer will inevitably be Matthew. And Jo and Beth March doing the nasty, is Right Out!)

Where were we? Oh yeah… Nefarious Character # One.

Now Tim had accepted being trapped in the Xenaverse with little grace and regarded anything concerning this rabbit with all the casual interest of Ahab hoping to make a luncheon date with Moby Dick. Despite this obsession, he had in the meanwhile built a rather lucrative business of blowing up stumps for farmers while maintaining his bachae bunny slayering weapons. He sharpened staves, made silver daggers, and he had found a regular supply of what he thought of as holy water, which was produced by a long slow aging process in oak casts. He was outstanding in his field when a young village lad came running across the field to breathlessly tell him that there be bards here.

But one detail confused him. “What you mean to say, Laddie, is that she transformed from a grrreat wolf, eh?”

This bright young lad shook his head

“Perhaps a large black bat with fangs,” and he illustrated this with his fingers at the sides of his mouth while growling and snarling.

The bright young lad continued to smile, but at the same time, being a bright young lad, backed slowly away. However he still remembered to put out his hand for his payment.

Following the traditions of his Ancestors, Tim tried to ignore the hand and began to gather up his slayer equipment, until the boy’s smile became particularly forced and Tim was forced to acknowledge it. “You want a tip?” There was an enthusiastic nod from the boy.

The enchanter grabbed the last few wooden stakes, tucked them into his pants and gave him a valuable tip. “If you ever have an urge to moove to Pompeii, dunna doo it.”

**************

Now that clutch of guys who had been pressed close to the door of the tavern from the time of Xena’s arrival (and the subsequent tying into knots of the friend who had winked at her)had begun to unclench. And to sidle their way ever so cautiously, but ever much closer, to where Xena, in Gabrielle’s body, was sitting. Thus proving that a tavern full of drunks will put the moves on anyone, even a deadly shape-shifter, if they’re cute and there’s sufficient liquor involved.

Now Xena was at this point was realizing that no matter how proficient with deadly weapons Gabrielle might had become, she was still cute. Which meant that Xena was now, well, cute. And the boys were moving closer, but with such feckless smiles that Xena could barely find it in herself to tear off their jaw bones. In fact, to her disgust, she found herself smiling ingratiatingly at them. Though inwardly cursing this niceness that she seemed to be afflicted with, she still had to contend with the matter of returning this body intact. Something that getting into a large brawl (and skipping out without paying the tab) might make difficult. And if there was one thing Xena did not want to do, it was maltreat this body. No, keeping it pristine and unbruised was definitely a major consideration. So, she began to rack her memory for some of the different ways that Gabrielle had fended off drunks before.

When Tim arrived at the tavern, it was to find Xena surrounded by this happy gang, smiling, laughing and generally still trying to figure out how to say no politely, without cracking skulls and bruising certain borrowed body parts. He strode in, fingering the wooden stakes tucked into his trousers, and tried to evaluate the young blonde. He could not sense any taint of Baachae about her, (but since Gabrielle wasn’t really “there” I am not challenging the Blood and Roses series, of course.)

Now here is one of those cases where a simple misunderstanding can occur. Tim assumed that he was making a tactful preliminary inquiry. What Xena saw, was this tall menacing figure caressing a large bulge in his pants, who leaned forward with a crazed look in his eyes and whispered in his exaggerated Scottish burr, “Have ye seen me bunny...?”

Oddly enough, Xena assumed that she didn’t want to see his ‘bunny’. She leapt up from the table, did a perfect flip in the air and landed smoothly behind him.

Or that was the idea.

Perhaps it was the too much alcohol for the body weight, or it only registered half way through the somersault that Gabrielle didn’t DO flips, but she never really cleared the table, well actually, she did CLEAR the table, catching her foot on the edge of it and slamming down rather forcefully across it, spraining her ankle badly and striking her head, rolling unconscious onto the ground.

Going into full slayer mode, Tim quickly trussed the warrior up, and prepared to test his latest batch of Holy water on both of them, when he was stopped by a forceful, gravally voice that called from behind him: “Leave her alone. She belongs to me!”

*****************************

Gabrielle considered the limp form of Joxer. (I know, that’s not what the girls at Meg’s said, and yuck...how dark would it have to be, eh?) and wondered at the intensity of her feelings of aggression. Surely this wasn’t the norm, even for Xena? But since I’m telling this story, she shrugged and decided to go with it, slapping Joxer across the face. He opened his eyes to see Xena leaning over him looking concerned. Relaxing, he weakly said “Hi Xena.”

The dark warrior smiled softly and said, “I’m not Xena, Joxer. I’m Gabrielle.”

Looking at the six foot of definitely Xena that was poised above him, Joxer emitted a high sort of peeping noise.

Gabrielle caught this and growled. She lowered her voice and spoke with precision. “Joxer.... I. Am… Gabrielle. Got that?

Joxer’s smile looked like it had been formed with industrial clamps. Terrified, he nodded.

Gabrielle continued. “If you see Xena, you’ll tell her I had to go to Cyrene’s. I’m going to pick up Eve, and then meet her at the tavern Aphrodite told us about.”

Joxer took a deep breath. “Uh, Gab-ri-elle...? What will ‘Xena’ look like?”

Nearly vibrating with energy, Gabrielle shouted, “SHE’LL LOOK LIKE ME!!”

“But what if it’s Meg?” Joxer thought that this was a reasonable point.

Gabrielle didn’t, and she hauled him up and said loudly into his face. “I AM GABRIELLE.... IN XENA’S BODY. XENA IS IN MY BODY.”

Gasping a little, he forced out “Ah....Gabrielle? I might find that easier to believe if you were acting like Gabrielle. And I don’t think Gabrielle would be strangling me like this. “

Still holding him at eye level, Gabrielle stated somewhat more calmly, “Some of Xena’s aggressiveness seems to come with the container.”

Joxer swallowed. “Does this mean that Xena is in your body and is acting... but then who would notice the difference lately?”

Something deep inside the woman produced a low growl. “WHAT does THAT mean?”

There was another full Adam’s apple bobbing swallow. “Well, ah, just that, ah, lately it’s seemed like Xena had already taken over your body...”

Giving him a series of shakes by the throat for punctuation, Gabrielle snarled, “LOOK! Just because I’m now more willing to FIGHT for what’s IMPORTANT to me, doesn’t mean I’m not the same SWEET, GENTLE, LOVING person I ALWAYS was.”

Joxer cautiously pointed to the growing distance between the ground and his feet.

Gabrielle dropped him, mumbling before stalking off, “You could have a point.”

And he does. It’s on his head.

***************************

Xena came to, aware of the drag of a travois and that she was secured to it, traveling backwards. She tested the cords binding her _‘Damn, who’s got me, or at least Gabrielle, this time? If they harm a hair on her body....’_ Then she recognized the back of the head of the person sitting up front, driving the team of plow horses.

Nefarious Character # Two.

Another “oh no,” escaped through her lips.

Herodotus turned about and smiled at what he thought was his runaway daughter. “I think this time you’ll come home where you belong, missy, and this time you’ll stay! Oh Yes! We’ll soon have you straightened out, fattened up, and doing the things a proper girl should be doing. And married too. After a few months you’ll think back on your time with that woman as some terrible nightmare.”

Even through the gag, Herodotus could hear **: “NOOOOOOO!!!”**

_***************************_

Running hard, and leaving Joxer far, far behind (wouldn’t we all like to do that?) Gabrielle finally arrived at Cyrene’s, puffing, eyes wide in near desperation. Having pointed rocks instead of breasts under your armor can do that to a gal.

Abandoning any attempt at being calm she burst into the crowded inn shouting, “WHERE IS THE BABY!!!”

Startled, Cyrene closed the door to her granddaughter’s room. “Xena! She’s sleeping! And what have you got on your face?”

Part two of the question was something Gabrielle did not want to deal with, and part one was a problem with an easy solution Gabrielle figured. “WAKE HER UP!”, and she began to frantically unstrap her breast plating.

After pulling the blindly fumbling woman away from the eager urgings of her patrons, Cyrene fought back a smirk once she recognized the problem. “What are you in such a fuss about? Where’s Gabrielle?”

Eyes darting about, Gabrielle decided to try to bluff through this. “I don’t know, but she could be in trouble.”

Cyrene chuckled softly. “Nothing new about that...”

It was the wrong thing to say. “What do you mean by THAT?”

Cyrene lifted the child out of the crib and brought her over to the now offended bard. “Don’t you go jumping down my throat about Gabrielle, Daughter. You know I love her almost as much as you do. But ...”

The relief Gabrielle felt as the suckling began was so great, she began to moan with pleasure. “Oh God’s, that feels goooood! How soon can you swap breasts?”

Now, Xena had been breast feeding for some time, and this seemed to be a question being asked by a newcomer to the experience. Confused, Cyrene stared into the eyes of the warrior in front of her, and she noticed how they had quickly softened once they became completely occupied with the bundle nursing at her chest. Occams Razor was something that Cyrene had been forced to abandon a long time ago, and what was unbelievable for some, was just this week’s letter home for her.

“Gabrielle?” the innkeeper asked wonderingly.

This stunned the bard. “How...How could you...?”

Shaking her head, Cyrene explained. “There are only two people that look upon my grandchild that way, and since you’re not Xena, the other one usually is short and blonde.”

Shifting Eve with one hand, the bard managed an outraged “I am NOT short!”

Cyrene looked up at the tall dark figure in front of her, and didn’t fight a familiar smirk from forming.

“No, you’re not, dear.”

After doing a little more stepmother/daughter bonding, Gabrielle quickly explained the situation, Aphrodite swapping them, the moustache on her face, basically Chapter one. Cyrene suggested that to get where she needed to be quick and to keep questions to a minimum, ‘Xena’ should be riding Argo.

This required a consultation with Argo, though. The conversation went something like this.

“Yes, it’s ME. But you’ll notice, this time the costume is slightly more convincing. Now you don’t give me problems and I won’t tell Xena that you let Callisto ride you the last time this happened. And HEY! Don’t you DARE give me THAT look! You know that the only one she rode was YOU!”

Should I specify that Gabrielle is talking?

So with Eve strapped in the back, Gabrielle rode off to save her mate.

*********************

Now several people have complained that this story is a little, well, relaxed. Lacksidasical. So we will now introduce a character with Drama. Drama with a capital D.

Nefarious Character # Three, Arachnia!

(Sure, maybe she looks like a young Captain Janeway with a squint, but without the Spider Queen outfit, as it’s being used by Lawlsfan and MaryD for when they get into those special, formal Webmistress moods.)

At first, all we see are leather boots striding confidently across a village courtyard. From somewhere we can hear the theme music from the Guns of the Magnificent Seven or Big Valley.

Dadada She walks again!......Relentlessly....Ruthlessly _(I wonder where Ruth is?)_ Doggedly _(Ruff! Ruff!)_

Towards her meeting with....The Unknown **.**

She picked up her stride, and after peering at it through squinting eyes, she dropped it quickly and walked directly into the massive tavern.

_‘Oomph, my nose!’_

Groping for the door, her farsighted orbs behold a great golden mare charging towards her. Atop is her target, the mother of the bringer of the Twilight of the Gods! She takes her stance. Arms firmly on hips, she stands directly in the way of the charging horse. Because she’s ready for anything, she’s ready for the Warrior Princess, She’s ...

“I”

_Gabrielle dismounts with a flip_ ( _Eve velcroed to her back)_

_“…_ am Arachnia!...”

_Gabrielle_ _lands behind Arachnia_

_“…_ The Anvil of Athen-ack!”

_Gab straight-arms the woman’s skull from the back and the erstwhile avenger collapses like a rotted tree._

“Uh...Sorry,” Gabrielle hesitantly apologized. “You were going to attack me. Weren’t you?”

Brushing the grit from her mouth, Arachnia nodded groggily while trying to raise herself.

“Good. I’m trying not to overreact, ya know?” Satisfied, Gabrielle gave the warrior a finishing shot to the head, leaving her lying there. She entered the tavern, which fell immediately fell silent. Talk about deja vu.

The innkeep scurried up to her, already prepared not to look at the ink moustache, and keeping his eyes carefully looking anywhere else.

Nevertheless, Gabrielle tried to adopt Xena’s cold business-like glare. “Where’s Gabrielle?”

“You mean, the cute bard?”

Gabrielle couldn’t stop the blush. “Thank you.”

The innkeeps eyes widened. ‘ _Boy, talk about being possessive!’_ he thought.

“What?”

Gabrielle tried Xena’s steely-eyed stare number 4. “Never mind. Talk to me. You saw a bard in here?”

“Yes, Ma’am.”

“The Bard here now?”

“Nope”

“Tell me what happened to the bard.”

“Some guy grabbed her, all tied up, and just hauled her away.”

“How long ago was this, sir?”

“Exactly two and half candlemarks ago”

“You seem pretty sure.”

“I was looking at the candle when it happened.”

“Did he damage my… her body?”

_Really possessive_ , the innkeep thought. “No no, he treated her real special. He tied her up and put on some blankets.”

“Do you think you could recognize him again?”

“Just an old farmer. But...”

“Yes sir?”

“I recognized the cart.”

“You recognized it, how?”

“The make.”

“What make would that be, Sir?”

“It was a 44 Hermes.”

Gabrielle’s eyes widened slightly. “With Mag wheels?” ‘ _Daddy?’_

“That’s the one.”

“Anything out of the ordinary happen?”

“Well, it was the weirdest thing I’ve ever seen. First she looked like you, and then...she wasn’t that way any more.”

“Don’t worry about it, Sir. Stuff like that happens all the time.”

“Really? Weird.”

“She can be. I’m curious, though. How’d she react when she transformed?”

“She perked up and started ordering drinks.”

A certain hardness entered into Gabrielle’s voice. “She didn’t get all upset, moan the name Gabrielle, go charging out of here, because someone might be in trouble? Need rescuing from a tree, nothing like that?”

“Nope. Started pouring down our strongest port, chatting up the guys. Seemed pretty cheerful if you ask me.... So, you taking off after her?

Gabrielle thought about how she’d been riding all day, after hanging in a tree all morning. She thought about her father tying up Xena and taking her ‘home’.

And she smiled.

“You gotta room? All of a sudden I don’t feel like there’s any rush.”


	3. Chapter 3

Where were we?

_Give me a second to check my notes, otherwise I’ll end up having to do something insane like actually re-read the story from the beginning._

_Okay... let’s see. We started off with Gabrielle hanging in the tree because somebody named Drock thought she was a sorceress, he got bopped out of the story, yadda yadda, thwock of skulls crashing, Joxer got slapped around a bit,( now it’s picking up speed.)..okay...getting there... Gabrielle was looking for her inner child, and as a prank drew a mustache on Xena... so they were pissed off at each other... Now I remember!!_

_Aphrodite decided to fulfill our heroes’ wish that they “know what it’s like to be each other,” so she swapped their minds and bodies, left their inimitable emotions and abilities (and the moustache) in place, but without the restraints to control them that they had built up over the years. So basically you have Gabrielle in Xena’s body and feeling Xena’s first season emotions, and vice versa._

_Is that what this is about? Okay.I can work with this._

_So, when we last looked in, Xena had been grabbed by Herodotus who thinks he has his daughter, and he has taken her ‘home’ to Potadaia for some spiritual cleansing._

_Gabrielle is in an tavern, maybe it’s an inn, maybe an early B+B, nursing baby Eve and a little PO’d that Xena allowed herself to get sidetracked. So she’s taking the night off before heading to Potatdaia to rescue her. Outside the tavern/inn whatever, Arachnia, the Anvil of Athena is plotting to kill Eve for her Goddess._

_Popcorn anybody?_

Gabrielle was just entering the room she'd been assigned when there was a loud WHOMP that made the walls of the inn shudder. Automatically Gabrielle reached for her sais, before she remembered she was now assigned the chakram. Chakrum. Whatever. She peered cautiously out the side of the window just in time to watch Arachnia slide down the outer wall and land in a heap at the base. The avenger jumped up, shook her head a couple of times, and then ran over to a balanced board teetering in the middle of the square. She adjusted it slightly to point more towards Gabrielle's window, then picked up a heavy barrel and threw it at the far end of the board, launching herself into space. Gabrielle moved back and away from the window as the walls trembled again, this time much closer to the frame, making the shutters shudder. (Bards? See the difference? Shudder? Shutter? And would it help if I said the room became quite quiet? Quite. Quiet? Two different words? HUH???)

(Just another public service. Back to our story)

Gabrielle thought for a moment and then casually crossed the room and opened the door which led onto the stairs. Outside, Arachnia was already making another minor modification. Gabrielle stood back with arms crossed and waited. She heard the sound of the barrel landing and Arachnia came flying through the window screaming "I am Arachnia the Ahhhhh!" Gabrielle watched with pursed lips as the avenger flew right across the room, out the door and tumbled down the stairs. Gabrielle strolled over and slammed the door shut, wincing slightly after each of the crashes, thumps and animal screeches.

The momentary silence was broken by a knock. It was the innkeep again, and he pointed hesitantly to the bottom of the stairs. "Is that yours?"

Gabrielle crossed her arms and stared down at the innkeep. "Nope."

The poor man looked down towards the unconscious avenger, and then back at the stonefaced, moustachioed warrior, and swallowed. "Wou… would you like one? I mean… is there anything else I could get you?"

Gabrielle began to notice a subtle change in the energy she was feeling. A nice post battle buzz. It was becoming more intense with each moment and movement. A strangely familiar feeling... and one that usually required a Warrior Princess in full working order, some privacy, and preferably lots of water.

Xena... It was then that the thought struck her. She had Xena, in a way.

She turned again to the innkeep and asked, "You got a mirror, a big one, portable?"

The little man blinked. Twice. "How Big?"

"Big. As tall as me. About six foot long? I’ll need it when I take my bath..."

************

It was still a nice day. Outside a certain storage cellar, all of nature was content. But in Mudville, or Potadaia if you prefer, mighty Xena was tied up.

Blonde, green eyed Xena was still strapped to the cot, rocking back and forth. She was in deep meditation, fighting these unpleasant warm and alien feelings that were flooding her psyche, with a mantra aimed at Gabrielle’s father that had little to do with any jewels in the lotus. It sort of went “ _OhIwannapoundum, Oh I wannapoundum” ._

Since this is pretty static for an opening scene, the door to the root cellar opened, and Gabrielle’s sister, Lila slipped cautiously in. Xena’s borrowed heart characteristically warmed, and she almost cringed at the blush of contentedness she felt upon seeing her partner’s sister.

“Lila!” she sang out good-naturedly, inwardly snarling at another unfamiliar sentiment.

Lila shushed her and furtively looked to the closed door. She crouched beside the strapped warrior and whispered, “Gabrielle. I’m so sorry. Are you all right?”

Xena strained at her bonds, but smiled happily. “Now that you’re here, I’m fine. But could you get me out of this?”

Lila looked deep into her sister’s face and was relieved to see that genuine sweetness she’d feared she would never again see in her sister’s eyes. But still cautious, she only said “I brought you some food.”

“Food!” Xena’s now green optic receivers ( _Bards! Why overuse orbs, pools, etc. when you have an MS Word thesaurus!)_ glowed with expectation, but they fell when Lila moved to feed her like a trussed up squirrel. (Lila was probably practicing. I think feeding trussed up squirrels is a traditional Potadaian festival activity.)

“Lila? Why can’t you untie me? They can’t expect me to stay like this forever,”

“That’s what Mother said to Father,” Lila whispered.

“Good. Sensible woman,” rejoiced the tethered woman.

“She looked at the new muscles and sent him out to get leg irons and chains. Big ones.”

“Oh.”

Lila pulled back a little and mumbled. “They do say you have to be loose for the lessons...”

The verdant organs of sight narrowed. “Tell me about these lessons.”

Lila’s instruments of vision darted about and she dropped to her knees to whisper, “It’s horrible. Seraphin returned and is working with this strange man. He locked some of the girls in a room for days, and while they were there, he stopped them from... you know...”

The warrior was puzzled. “No. What?”

Lila looked both ways before whispering, “Peeing.”

Xena struggled to rise from the cot. “By the God’s, what does he do to them? Magic? Surgery?”

Lila tried to hold down the agitated woman. “No. No, I told you. He doesn’t allow them to leave the room to go. At all. For DAYS!”

Xena sank back and relaxed. “Uh, Lila? You know... I’ve been a prisoner in a whole bunch of dungeons. Usually strapped to the wall? They don’t let you down every couple of hours to visit the little girl’s room between the whippings. You just...”

Lila blanched.

Xena looked at her curiously. “Why do you think dungeons smell so bad?”

Lila began shaking her head. “I haven’t ever...I never ...

Xena shrugged it off. “Anyway, can you untie me?”

Now you see, the problem for Lila was that she had been shocked by reading Gabrielle’s recent letters home. They’d told of how her once pacifist sister had killed over and over again. That Xena, Xena! mellowed since the baby, had even told Gabrielle that the former bard was becoming too violent.

Too violent for Xena.

To Lila’s mind, this was as if Bachus had advised someone that maybe they might have a serious drinking problem.

Tentatively, she tried to broach the subject. “Gabrielle, I’ve heard such stories, Father says he found you passed out in a bar! I’ve been so worried about some of the things that you wrote...” But she reached for the knots anyway.

Ah, alas and alack, Xena, filled with unfamiliar feelings of love and a need to match Lila’s honesty, opened her big mouth. Nice mouth though it is.

“I didn’t write any of those things, Lila. You see,” she gave a rueful chuckle. ”I’m not Gabrielle. I’m really Xena.”

Strangely enough, this didn’t go over well. Lila stopped the untying. “What?” she choked out.

“I’m Xena, in Gabrielle’s body.”

“Xena?”

“Uh huh.”

“And the REAL Gabrielle...”

“Is in my body.”

There was a noise then. A rustling, sort of exiting type noise.

“Lila?” There was no answer. Probably because there was no one else in the room anymore.

“LILA?” Somewhere, even in ancient Greece, I think a coyote was howling. Tumbleweeds may have been blowing by.

“Lila, could you at least come back and give me another hug?”

**********************

After this embarrassingly pathetic sniveling, Xena was relieved to hear a sound of some sort of cart approaching early the next morning. Finally the door opened again and she sank back with foreboding as she recognized Gabrielle’s childhood friend and as last seen, Kamikaze nutcase, the compulsive suicidal sacrifice, Seraphin. Her blonde hair was still short, but almost bleached, and she was wearing a long, white skirt that covered her body from her neck to her ankles, and it was only when she smiled to speak that Xena again saw the glint of madness she remembered in that temple to Dahok.

“Gabrielle, this is the first day of your new domestic tranquillity! And this...” she rolled the chair forward, its seated figure shrouded in black. “...is your new teacher.”

This triumphant pronouncement was ruined by a look of bewilderment that passed over the baby face. Seraphin stopped and pointed an accusing finger at the prisoner.

“Xena? Does Gabrielle know you’ve got her body?”

*****

Gabrielle? If you remember she had been staying overnight at a certain inn.

Eve, AKA The Bringer of the Death and the Twilight of the Gods was over her teething problems for a bit, so mother and child had slept well.

Not so, the poor folks downstairs, who hadn’t appreciated it at all when the splashing contents of the three candlemark long bath (you remember, with the body length mirror?) had leaked and spilled through their ceiling, all the while accompanied by top of the scale grunts, moans and an incessant recitation of the entire Pantheon of Greek Gods including the Pleide that everybody but Gabrielle forgets.

Their complaints to the Warrior-whipped landlord had gone for naught, but they had quieted down nicely as a consequence of Arachnia breaking into their room and summarily hog-tying and gagging them.

(They would complain. But the landlord would explain it as a visit by someone from the idiot village over the hill, exhibiting another long standing Potadaian Festival tradition.)

Having established a base, Arachnia’s attempt to surreptitiously saw through the ceiling/floor was foiled summarily. Not as some would expect, by Gabrielle allowing a circular portion of the floor to be lowered with a burning fuse attached to a bag of black powder with the word ‘BOMB’ written on it. (Sorry. Claire Withercross also supplied me a really funny scene with Arachnia crouched behind a rock waiting for Gabrielle after opening the Acme Warrior Trap 2000. _“Two thousand,” muttered Arachnia. “Must be really old.”)_ But I decided to be more realistic.

Nope. Gabrielle just went downstairs and pounded the crap out of the wannabe for nearly waking up Eve.

Any message Gabrielle had attempted to convey to the Athena’s Chosen-hopeful was clearly not understood, because as the dappled rays from Apollo first entered the window in the morning, so did an arrow attached to a rope. Gabrielle only sighed, and grabbed her flint. She didn’t even waste a glance outside to see Archnia balancing on it as she tightrope walked across the square. Noting when the weight was stretching the line to the max, she set fire to it, and closed the window. Not even waiting for the thud. And still being Gabrielle where it counted, she rolled over and slept for another hour.

It was only after she had nursed Eve, done the burp dance, and was about to change nappies that the knock came.

“Yes?” she called out.

There was a pause. “Telegram?”

“Push it under the door.”

_(I think we can all hear the brain gears grinding in the hallway.)_ “Ummm... CandyGram?”

There was a small bit of bustling about inside, and then Arachnia heard a voice say sweetly: “Come iiiinnnn!”

Fiendishly avoiding the use of the door, the avenger broke through the thin walls, only to find the room empty. She was about to proceed to check the closet when some sad little trace of good instinct made her look up, look waaaaay up... and Gabrielle dropped from the ceiling and did her Mr. Bear impression, squashing her flat.

Jumping up, with lightning fast movements (and the most subtle of sound effects) the temporarily dark warrior jabbed her fingers into several specific locations on the neck of the nearly flattened villain.

Immediately, Arachnia’s right leg began to vibrate in a rigid muscular fashion.

Undaunted, the agile fingers deftly jabbed again. This time the left arm began to shake spasmodically

“Damn it!” Gabrielle muttered, “I’ve seen this a hundred times! I know I can do this!” And she tried again.

There was a loud farting noise.

“More stuff about the body I didn’t need to know,” she moaned. In desperation, she reached over and grabbed a handy soiled diaper and thrust it with a threatening motion towards the face of the suddenly terrified avenger, who instantly ceased her struggles. They remained like that for moment, and Gabrielle realized for first time that she was dealing with a fairly young and somewhat innocent looking girl. Her anger receded, but drawing her sword out first, she backed off. She sat down on the bed and pointed her weapon at the miscreant, and trying out her best hard stare said, “Now look, you maniac. Can we just chat?”

Arachnia glanced at the diaper and nodded.

“You’re trying to kill my kid because some God told you to, is that what this is about?“

Arachnia nodded again.

Gabrielle exploded in disbelief. “Why in Tartarus would anyone want to get in good with the Gods? It’s bad enough they generally screw around with everybody, have you heard about what they do to the people they LIKE? And what’s with the Anvil of Athena stuff? Shouldn’t that be the HAMMER of Athena?”

“Because she, well, she doesn’t treat me very well,” Arachnia admitted shamefacedly.

“As in...?” Gabrielle prompted.

“Well, I think I must have bugged her once, because she made it so that I have to be a virgin for eternity. Not that I mind, but I thought if I could become her new Chosen...”

“Virgin? This is Athena, right? This is Athena you’re trying to please?” Gabrielle began to laugh. “Um, Arachnia, I think you misread the application.”

“There were applications?” The avenger looked stunned.

Gabrielle just sighed. She wondered why lately they never met any intelligent bad guys. Maybe they should do something about the pay scale.

“My priestess didn’t say there were applications.” A grim look of discovery came over the young face. “I bet she was trying to get out of writing a letter of recommendation!”

Gabrielle continued to ponder several arguments for a basic minimum wage for villains.

Arachnia continued angrily. “Like, it was only a fluke I even heard that the position of Chosen had opened up.”

Gabrielle’s newfound bawdiness now bubbled up and out. “Position? I saw Athena’s last Chosen, and I can guess at some of the positions. And being a virgin wouldn’t have lasted past the first job interview.”

Fortunately for the pacing of this story, Arachnia ignored the comment and continued doing more exposition. “It’s part of the curse she put on me! If I ever marry and attempt sex with my beloved, I’ll be changed into a horrible creature with eight legs!”

“What IS this thing Athena has about spiders?” Gabrielle mused to herself.

“And in this hideous form, I will be driven to devour my mate on our first attempt at intimacy!”

Gabrielle stared intently towards the floor or ceiling, something she and Xena do a lot in fanfic.

No one knows why.

“This spider you change into... it wouldn’t also implant eggs in a female, and then... afterwards... the eggs would hatch and the babies would devour her alive as well?”

Arachnia seemed to stop breathing. “Dear Hera, NO! What kind of sick and depraved mind would come up with something like that?”

Tall, dark and deadly Gabrielle growled. (With good cause, I’d say.)

Arachnia defiantly squared her shoulders. “Look. Just let me go strangle the baby, and you can get back...” she pointed a finger at the area under Gabrielle’s nose, “to shaving, maybe?”

Can I sum up the ensuing action by saying that Gabrielle was out of the tavern riding towards Potadaia a few seconds later, and that Arachnia very nearly joined Drock as another former major character in this story?

As it is, she’s definitely out for a chapter or two...

 

*******************

Meanwhile, Xena was still getting over the shock of being outed, as it were.

Seraphin began pacing angrily about the cot. “Oh, don’t try to fool me. You don’t get possessed by a soul eating, genocidal Demon-god without picking up a few things. Now I asked you a question. What are you doing with Gabrielle’s body?”  

Even for such an experienced body snatcher as Xena, this pointed query left her a little nonplused. Trying to indicate her tied up body to her jailer, she responded self righteously, “What am **_*I*_** doing with Gabrielle’s body?”

Seraphin shrugged casually. “Sorry. It’s a con I’ve worked out with some of the kids here. My fiancé there (and she pointed to the still silent presence in the wheel chair) is supposed to have converted me into a goody goody, and some of the parents pay him to do the same to their daughters. I split the fee with the kids, and they do the dishes for a few days, smile a lot before taking off into the woods with the cash, and everyone’s happy. What’s wrong with that?” She finished belligerently.

Now I think Xena should have sympathized with the difficulties of being a single woman trying to find employment in Ancient Greece, but instead, (as usual), she went for her standard defense, a strong offense. Having immediately noticed a certain quality of restraint that seemed to, well, shroud Seraphin’s betrothed, she tried a question of her own.

“I like the wheeled chair, but isn’t the guy in it dead?”

”So?” Seraphin blustered in reply.

Xena figured that this point was worth emphasizing. ”SO? This is your fiancé? He’s dead!”

Apparently, Seraphin had read Clauswitz as well, because she managed to volley back. ”Xena of Amphipolis. What a hypocrite! You. Are the LAST person who should have a prejudice about the living impaired.”

Shaking off this smoke screen, Xena got back to the point. “Seraphin? Why are you carting a dead man around in a chair?”

Forced to acknowledge a tactical retreat, Seraphin slumped down on the cot. “I needed someone to front for me.” She looked to Xena with imploringly. “Did you think THIS village would let a woman run anything?”

Xena blinked. ”They’d rather trust a dead man, than a live woman?”

”In a candle’s flicker.” came Seraphin’s answer, straight back.

”Good old Potadaia. Everytime I wonder why Gabrielle left this place to follow a half crazed ex-warlord, all I have to do is visit.” She glanced over at the seated gaunt figure. “But as men go, I suppose he does have certain advantages.”

Seraphin looked over at her suspiciously. “You aren’t going to make any stiff jokes, are you?”

Xena denied this sincerely. “No, no. I’m impressed. You used a preservative, right? I did notice that he isn’t attracting flies or anything.”

Mollified somewhat, Seraphin acknowledged the compliment with some pride. ” Not everyone appreciates things like that. Thank you.”

”So, where did you dig him up?”

”He was a former village elder. I figured he didn’t seem to be doing anything,.. It’s a new idea I have about wasting resources. I call it recycling.”

”So, he’s not really dead....”

”No, he’s just recycled.”

”This town....” The warrior muttered under her breath.


	4. Chapter 4

_A long time passed between the writing of these chapters. I remember that summers were warmer b **ack then, we called turkeys, walking birds...and Thanksgiving was called Walking Bird Day...and we all wore onions on our belts, because that was the style of the time...**_

**_Sorry. I suffer from Multiple Simpson Personality Disorder. Where were we?_ **

******

Ah yes, We’re off on the Road to Potadaia, and Gabrielle was flying fairly high. Charging along on top of Argo, off to rescue Xena, she had decided that, what the hey? Maybe she could stand being six feet of deadly skilled warrior, with a killer vocal range for a while. So, generally things were going pretty good for her.

 

We can’t let that continue, can we?

******

Seraphin abruptly stood up at stared down at the prisoner. ”Damn it, Xena. This is going to screw up my scam royally. Gabrielle might have cooperated for old times sake, but you’re not exactly known for going along. We’ll have to tell your supposed Daddy.” She stomped over to the door and bellowed, “Herodotus!”

There was some scuffling and shuffling and finally that worthy stuck his head in the door. Seraphin pointed at the bound woman. “This isn’t Gabrielle!” A quick glance confirmed for Herodotus, that as butch as she might look, it WAS his daughter.

“I know she’s changed...” he started.

Seraphin cut him off. ”Look, I know it’s Gabrielle’s body, but Xena’s soul is inside it.”

Now Herodotus didn’t accept this, of course. But there was a part of him that had to consider that if Xena was involved, anything was possible.

Hoping to nudge the man in another direction, Xena smiled ingenuously and said sweetly, “Father? I think that Seraphin has been having a few too many... adventures, if you know what I mean?”

Herodotus considered this slowly, then nodded towards the dead man in the wheelchair. ”What does he say about this?”

Seraphin gave a muffled shriek of frustration, and threw her hands in the air.

Xena continued her innocent smiling. ”Daddy? I think what is important right now, is that you untie me before Xena gets here. I’m guessing she’s on her way, and I have reason to believe she may already be just a little more than usually, ummm, manic?”

“We have a welcoming committee planned for that.” Herodotus smirked. “You think that you’re so smart? Girl, your murdering warlord is going to be stopped cold. We have a new Potadaian Uniformed Militia!”

Xena choked out, “Potadaian Militia? Uniformed?”

Seraphin grimaced and explained. “You know the Potadaian Chorus? He figured since they already had those chorale outfits...”

The strapped warrior stared at the man. “Let me understand this. You’ve set up the Potadaian Chorus to try and stop Xena in full battle mode?”

Herodotus was smug. “I’ve had time to plan, daughter. I have the one group of soldiers that Xena will never even attempt to defeat. These are all of your childhood friends and teachers! She won’t dare to hurt anyone who means anything to you. Will she?”

Would she? Xena’s apprehension grew. “Dad? You don’t want to put her to any tests... Xena isn’t really herself right now... and there are Gods involved. They have a tendency to try teach mortals lessons, and not everyone survives them. I’m safe enough here, but ... my partner is out there somewhere and whatever is going to happen ...”

In case this wasn’t enough foreshadowing, there was a strobing flash from the window, immediately followed by a deep rumble. Xena blanched. Seraphin leaned down to calm the warrior.

“That’s really neat! Gabrielle was always afraid of lightning, and her body must still react to it. Must feel weird, huh? I bet normally you get a rush from the electricity of a big storm.”

Behind a wan grin, Xena was cringing. “ _I HATE lightning...but I got over that...once I had Gabrielle to tease...’_

 

******

So, not too far away, Gabrielle was still blissfully riding along. Completely oblivious to the fact that her warrior princess senses were tingling furiously. Only very gradually becoming conscious that it had suddenly gotten very dark, and the humidity was about one hundred percent.

It wasn’t until a big fat raindrop hit her right on the nose that that she began to feel the chill. Then another struck (and that is the word) her collar bone. Then another, and another.

Heavy, chubby raindrops.

The wind began to rise. A quick succession of thoughts flashed through her mind. _‘Storm. Big. Damn! Eve! Potadaia. How far?_

_Okay._

_‘What would Xena do? Gabrielle would dither about, weighing all the options and end up not making any decision. But Xena would think it through and decide. Bang. And stick to it._

_Okay, I’m just on the outskirts of the grazing lands, I keep riding_.’

 

So without dismounting, she swung Eve’s pack around front and pulled a tarp from the saddle bags and wrapped it around the child with care. Eve’s eyes stared out at the world in wonder and Gabrielle gave her a quick kiss before carefully covering her up.

Off on the horizon, a bolt of lightning connected with the ground and the sound rolled across the valley and struck her with surprising physical force. For a terrifying moment, she trembled in sympathy with the air around her. She leaned protectively over Eve, as the rain now began in earnest. Drenching sheets poured down, blinding her and Argo but she pressed on. The ground was a succession of brackish puddles that began to flow together. But still she pressed on. The downy hairs on her neck and arms stood up just before another blinding flash occurred, and the answering explosion of thunder caused her to almost jump out of her skin. She growled at the sky.

“DAMMIT Xena! You ARE afraid of Lightning storms, All this time....@#$%^% , and you, I could<something,something> KILL YOU!.”

Slightly comforted by the idea of beheading the one she loved above all, she concentrated on holding onto her nerve for the child’s sake.

The path was fast becoming a small stream swirling downhill, beginning to gouge out a gully as rains from the hills joined it. The air shattering slams of the thunder were now coming almost on top of the lightning strikes. There was no light provided by the black overcast sky between the blinding flashes, but even so, Gabrielle attempted to guide Argo along the edge of the road. The frantic energy of horse and rider was feeding both their panics, and unable to see through the rain that pelted her in buckets, she stood up in the stirrups. She was shielding her eyes, trying to find some kind of shelter, when one of Zeus’ bolts sheered a tree just to her left at the same moment as Argo’s right hoof encountered a pothole. Even a battle trained war-horse couldn’t maintain her rider under those conditions and Gabrielle was jerked sideways while still standing, one foot tearing from the stirrup. Even as she fell to the ground, she instinctively clutched protectively at the bundle strapped to her stomach, rather than the horse. But one foot did not release. Her head and shoulders were dragged through mud and rock for a distance before Argo finally calmed and came to a halt. Almost unconscious Gabrielle tore her foot free and collapsed on the spongy grass.

Groggily, and over the wailing of the storm, she heard the screams of her child, and concentrated on remaining conscious. Thanking the Fates, she was able to confirm that Eve was afraid, but not hurt. The storm continued to shriek about her, but the lightning illuminated the land, revealing an old temple. Blood was pouring from several small cuts on her forehead and shoulders, but the stinging pain and the fear for the safety of the child were the only things keeping her conscious. She half stumbled, half crawled towards the ruin, Eve’s crying tearing at her heart. Eventually collapsing under the remaining doorway, she felt as though failure had taken on a crushing physical weight. But unlike Eve, she refused to cry.

******

So what about Xena, while all this serious stuff was going on?

Warm, cozy, but still tied up, Xena’s strategy to talk her way out of her ropes was maintaining its position as Plan A, and she and Seraphin were bonding happily.

Munching on a cracker, Xena asked: “You know, ‘Daddy’s’ plan might have worked with me, but how do you think Gabrielle is likely to react?”

Seraphin chortled. “You mean when she meets all those friends from her childhood? All the kids and teachers that treated her like crap and made traveling with you seem like such a good idea? And assuming that she’s as aggressive in your body now, as you are mellowed out?”

“That would sum it up pretty well. So?”

“They’re goat food.” she said with great satisfaction.

Xena chewed on that and the cookie for a time before speaking “Part of me is saying that this is a bad thing.”

“Ignore it.” advised Seraphin. “Hearing little voices is something I think this village does to women. I should know, trust me.” She patted Xena on the shoulder familiarly. ”Hey, you’re just visiting. Imagine being brought up here. I remember when Gabrielle made this push for sex education. After a big fight, they finally brought in a healer, who read us a pamphlet. I remember it started off “You may have noticed, between your legs....”

Mutual antipathy forgotten, Xena began to giggle. Seraphin slid down beside and continued, grinning. ”It wasn’t any better for the guys, Perdicus told me the schoolmaster took all the boys aside, sat them down, and said solemnly. “If you touch It, It will fall off.’ Then they sent them all home figuring that would keep the little buggers in line for a while.”

Xena cracked up. “No wonder Gabrielle was doing all that reading before we first...” she gasped out. Both young women were roaring now, when Xena noticed that where Seraphin’s skirt rode up, there were a series of tattoos revealed. Mainly slogans like “Repossess Me” and “Heavens’ Above, when Dahok’s Below”

“Sera? Are those tattoos real?” she inquired.

“What? Oh, God’s no. They’re just to convince the rubes how I’ve changed. They’re not really permanent. I did them myself and they come off in a month of so. Why?”

Xena smiled. “I like ‘e. And I was just wondering if you could do me a favour? Since this body isn’t going anywhere for a bit, I was thinking ... Do you know what ‘paybacks’ are?”

 

*******

Now if you were feeling that it was unfair that Xena having this lovely pajama party with her new pal, while Gabrielle was lying about, shattered by crushing regret, remorse and failure? Well, she’s fine now. And the rain had stopped.

I know you’d think that considering the way she was feeling earlier on, we might not be hearing much from the hometown girl for a while. But to do that you’d have to be pretty clueless about the essential characters of our heroes. Sort of like the writers for most of the fourth and fifth season.

But you see, Xena’s body is fueled by crushing regret, remorse and failure.

So having been completely recharged, with a new driving sense of purpose, with Eve packed in back, Gabrielle had tied up Argo, and had begun her stealthy but single minded advance upon Potadaia on foot. Quickly becoming quite comfortable relying on the hunter’s body, she smelt the watch before they showed themselves. (Not a truly impressive trick.) First one, then two stood; the former declaring pompously:

“Xena of Amphipolis. I am Mendicas, a close childhood friend of Gabrielle, daughter of Herodutus. I cannot let you pass!”

This rehearsed speech was supposed to stop the evil warlord in her tracks, but instead, a strange fire seemed to glow in the pale blue eyes, and the response was not what they had expected.

The warrior continued to advance, softly musing, ”Mendicas! A dear, dear old friend. What memories we share. I’d almost forgotten the ‘friendly’ way you held me under water in the quarry that one time. What was it you were trying to prove? Oh yes! If ‘short could float’.” The slitted eyes drilled through him. “Such an inquiring little mind.”

Now Mendicas made his second mistake, preserving Potadaia’s reputation as the regional storage area for idiots. He froze, completely hypnotized by the snake-like blue eyes, transfixed by her smile. She slithered right up, until she was towering above him, and hissing, “Whadya think? Tall enough for you NOW?”

His second mistake was that when this emphasis broke him out of his paralysis, he drew his sword. He stared at it like it was an incorrectly delivered package for a moment, before tentatively raising it. The gleam of the warrior’s eyes and teeth only became brighter, and a pleased contralto said. “Oh, gooood.”

 


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Warning: This chapter is not as jolly, or at least one section is. This story is very different from most of my stuff, but I still wanted to be true to the characters and it suddenly became very dark. My apologies to those that were not expecting it.

Only a few moments later, Seraphin and Xena heard running feet that stopped outside the door. Someone was yelling at Gabrielle’s father.” How does the Chorus, uh, the Militia stand?” ‘Daddy’ demanded

”You fool! She just tore through the altos and basses like cheap lyre strings! We’re down to a couple of tenors!” The messenger’s attitude was a touch panic stricken. “After that… there’s only sopranos between her and us!”

Herodotus’ low mutter could be barely heard. “I don’t understand. Didn’t they tell her who they were?”

“She already **knew** who they were! She picked up poor Gendle like a toy, and reminded him of how he used to pull down Gabby’s underwear in the village square. Then she sliced off his pants! When she saw he wasn’t wearing anything underneath, she told him she’d just have to make do by taking something else off!”

The messenger’s tone then sounded a tad furtive. “That’s when I decided to come back here to…ummm, warn you.”

Inside, Seraphin turned to Xena with eyes bright with delight. “Sounds like Gabrielle likes attending her school reunion as six feet of kick-ass.”

Xena struggled under her cords. “Maybe too much. Look, Sera, this is getting serious. This isn’t Gabrielle. This is me, and Gabrielle does not want to be me. Not the way I was before I met her. You’ve got to let me up to see what’s going on. She might do something she’d really regret.”

Torn between what she saw as Gabrielle’s chance at justice and a request from her new friend, Seraphin dithered before compromising. “I’m not untying you. But I suppose it wouldn’t hurt to prop you up by the window.”

******

Outside, things were getting very nasty, so of course, before you could say, comedy relief, oh, joy, Joxer was there.

 

(I have no explanation for where he was until now or where he came from. I base his miraculous appearance entirely on canon. Until someone explains why he was in the Amazon village in Bitter Suite, or at the mountain in Fallen Angel, this makes perfect sense.)

The goofus interposed himself between Gabrielle and a one time prom date. “Xena,” he wheedled, “you don’t want to hurt these people.”

Gabrielle clamped one hand onto his shoulder, and shoved him aside. “One of these days, Jox, you’re going to be right, but it ain’t today. Laughing boy here promised me a dance a while back, and instead I got covered with a bucket of pig’s blood. So, I think we do a little dancing, and then I return the favour. And guess...“ she smiled cruelly, “...where the pig’s blood is coming from?” Her potential victim made a slight peeping sound.

Even as he stumbled backwards, Joxer called to his new confederate, “Arachnia! Now!” (Has it been two chapters already?)

The descending net was sliced in two by Xena’s sword before it even touched Gabrielle’s shoulders. She changed direction and strode over to Arachnia, who dropped the remains of the netting, stood still, and closed her eyes. Perhaps Gabrielle meant to toss her indiscriminately to one side, but she ended up throwing her straight into Joxer.

(Okay. I admit it. I wrote myself into the story, and asked him to stand there. I must say that he was very polite, and cooperative.)

Oh. Remember the last time a skull struck Joxer’s? That big thwok? This time as the Hammer of Athena and the Master of Mayhem collided there came a wondrous bell-like tone that stalled the battle for a brief moment as many Potadaians assumed lunch was being served somewhere. If only to squirrels.

But Gabrielle was ignoring the heaped bodies, because fun time was over. And this story gets serious for just a moment. For the past several heartbeats, Gabrielle’s eyes had never moved from one spot.

From one man.

One average looking, middle-aged man, who stood like the others, holding a small sword in front of him. For some reason he remained secure in the belief that he had the words that would stay this beast. He spoke loudly enough for all to hear. “Stand and advance no further, woman. I was Gabrielle’s teacher. I… taught her to read.”

There was a laugh of unpleasant origin, which bubbled up from her chest as Gabrielle continued to move forward. She had known anger before, but this was a pure fury, and she reveled in it, and the sensuous power and physical strength that seemed to be feeding off the wrath.

“Yes. That’s right. You did that. You managed to find the one thing that would tempt a young girl into leaving her home at night. The one thing that would make her visit you. The one thing you believed that she would do anything for.” With each word she advanced. Each step growing in anger and rage.

Too late, the man blinked and hesitantly began a retreat, but a firm hand shot out and grasped his collar and he was snatched upwards, then flung to the ground.

“Yes, you taught me,” Gabrielle continued remorselessly. “You showed me the letters and words I craved. You made knowledge a bribe. Something that had to be paid for. So that you could touch, and manipulate and control, you BASTARD!”

Now the terrified teacher managed to stand, and began to back away, screeching in fear, “Get away from me! You unnatural woman!” But there was no mercy, only an ugly sneer, on the warrior princess’s face and she continued to advance towards him.

“You son of a bitch. You dare to tell me what’s abnormal?”

Seraphin had managed to maneuver the cot up against the wall. and Xena was watching in shock through the window as her own fist smashed into a middle aged man. Who flew across the courtyard to crash through a drying table.

“No more”, he whispered from the wreckage to the tower of anger above him.

”You’re damned right no more”. And Gabrielle unsheathed the sword to hold it high. Both hands gripped the hilt, her body singing with the anticipation of the thrust into his heart. She spat out, “No more little girls for you.”

Xena may have meant to cry ‘Gabrielle’ but instead, like an echo of so many times past, she screamed to her partner, “XENA! NO!”

What did Gabrielle think as she heard that cry? Was she thinking of all the deaths she had been responsible for? From Meridian to the latest one only days before? Even picturing herself ever so carefully cleaning that last bit of clotted blood from her sais? Would this killing make any difference?

Sure there was no justification of the greater good, or even Eve or Xena to defend. There was still the excuse of any potential future victims.... No. She couldn’t fool herself.

This was very, very personal.

Xena would understand.

“I trusted you, and you betrayed me,” she growled. Once again the sword was raised to thrust and twist it inside of his chest.

As she prepared to strike, her eyes were drawn instead across the lane to see her partner’s face framed in a low window, a silent ‘no’ on her lips. Like some apparition of her youthful self.

She faltered under that judgment, and instead, dropped the sword to the ground and followed it, falling to her knees, as the school teacher scrambled away.

And Xena? Seeing the blood lust that she had never wanted Gabrielle to experience actually personified in her own figure and face, felt inside herself an outburst of horror and fear that Gabrielle had once known watching her in action. The fear that the young farmer’s daughter had somehow overcome for the sake of friendship. Did another piece of the puzzle finally fit into place for both of them?

So even as Gabrielle knelt in the dirt, there was a rushing of wind, and Aphrodite was there, holding her. Gabrielle thought that there were tears in both of their eyes and she fought her body’s negative response to the embrace, needing comfort desperately. She mumbled brokenly, “I don’t want to play this game any more.”

Holding Gabrielle tenderly, the Goddess said “I’m sorry, Gabster. It’s okay. You wanted to know what it was like to be Xena. I thought.... What you’ve been doing lately... all your doubts about your way and hers. You needed to know...”

The Goddess gathered Herself. “And everybody heard what that scumbucket did. One way or another he’s finished, I swear.” She lifted Gabrielle’s head up to look into the tear filled and exhausted eyes, ignoring the mustache and goatee. “It’s almost over now. Just one teeny last little thing.” She pulled Eve from the backpack, and teased the child with a gentle finger. Seeing her child in the hands of a God brought an unreasoning fear to Gabrielle’s heart, but a quick look at the expression on the Goddess’ face soothed her. The suspicion hadn’t gone unnoticed, but the Aphrodite only grinned.

“Hey, if I wanted to, I coulda. Even I can conjure up a fireball, you know. But friends don’t do that, do they?”

Gabrielle felt the tears rise again, and she shook her head.

The Goddess continued. “I think this munchkin should be with someone else for a bit while you and the warrior babe finish up. How bout if I take the wee one out of the line of fire? You make the call where I take her, okay?”

The part that was Gabrielle in the warrior’s body accepted this truth and asked, “You can do that? You won’t get in any trouble with Family?”

Aphrodite gave the tall woman a punch on the shoulder. “That is so sweet. Worried for me? That’s the Sweatpea I know and love.”

By the way, this exchange wasn’t going unnoticed by Xena, still helpless and tied to the now upright cot. No, Xena was definitely glued to the spectacle of the Goddess of Love’s successful comforting of her soulmate. In fact, Xena was getting a big taste of the jealousy that could drive a woman to travel to Chin about this time.

Unaware of the green-eyed watcher, Gabrielle was thinking out loud. ”Maybe you could take her to my Mom.... oh God’s. That would be an explanation and a half...”

”Hel-loo! Who better to make it than the Goddess of Love?”

”To MY mom? uh...”

”You don’t think I can handle it.”

”It’s just... it’s my MOM!”

”Come on, Sweetie? This is the Goddess talking. I can do this. Impress a couple of mortals? Give me a break.”

”No tricks? Just because we’re...?”

”Buds? Yeah. Still trust me?”

Gabrielle nodded. ”I’d feel better if you would you tell me what this final teeny little thing we have to do to get our own bodies back is, and why Eve can’t be there.”

”Honey. You two needed to know how it felt to be the other one, soooooo... I’m the Goddess of Love. What do you think you have to do to end it?”

Still feeling only fatigue, Gabrielle looked on without comprehension.

The Goddess sighed. “Ya know, sometimes I think I need to have the University of Illinois Marching Band to spell stuff out for you, but since that body of yours will be sending the brain a message soon... I’ll just go and be Goddess like, okay? Later!”

Gabrielle was still puzzling over Aphrodite’s remarks when just as predicted, somewhere a little bell went off. One that sounded like: ‘ _Hey Warrior! You’ve just knocked out fifteen guys, and had to be restrained from killing a child molester!_

_Now it’s Miller Time!’_

“Ahhhhhhh!” the Bard murmured.

**********

Moments later, (back at the farm), Hecuba came striding in carrying a certain child and set right into slapping her husband about the arms and shoulders. “Hero! They’re married!”

By this time, Herodotus was getting damned tired of everybody picking on him, and roared, ”What?”

Ignoring his outburst almost entirely, Hecuba only cooed to the bundle in her arms “Oooji booodgi booodgi!” Finally deciding that the veins in her husband’s neck had reached the stage where Scotty would soon be calling to warn the captain, she said: ”Xena. And our Gabrielle. And we have the cutest little grandchild! Isn’t it miraculous?”

Meanwhile Xena was loosening the sphincter muscles that had been tightened ever since she had seen her child disappear with Aphrodite. Gabrielle’s sphincter muscles and Gabrielle’s emotions and needs. And realised that the joy she was feeling at seeing Eve was instinctive, and the need to hold her, was as strong as her own had ever been. And she hung her head, and cursed herself with a fluency that had Seraphin writing stuff down.

Hecuba returned her attention to her husband. “Now you tell whatever is left of those silly singing soldiers of yours to stop fighting this instant and let our daughter-in-law in.”

Petulantly, Herodotus refused to accept this turnaround. ”But they can’t be married! They’re...”

But Hecuba had received a divine message. ”The Goddess herself, the Goddess of Love, appeared before me. Handed me this child, told me she was theirs, and that their union was blessed by her.”

In the storeroom, Seraphin looked at Xena with admiration. “Cool. I hang with a God and he tries to destroy humanity. You hang with one and they solve your in-law problems.”

Xena grimaced. ”Uh huh. Let’s just say this is one of their good days.”

Hecuba slapped her husband’s shoulder again. ”Hero, are you going to call off your men?”

Herodotus’ indecision was interrupted by a mangled scream, followed by a loud thud, just outside the building. Hecuba cocked an ear and smiled, saying “That sounds like our daughter-in-law now! XENA! Dear?”

From the exterior there was silence, and then a hesitant “Momma?”

Hecuba glowed with delight, and turned to face the rest. “She called me Momma!”

Herodotus was now suffering from information overload. “HOW can they be married? And what do you mean grandchild? HOW could there be a GRANDCHILD?”

Xena cleared her throat, but the silky voice interrupted through the door, “Can I say it? Just once? I’ve always wanted to say it.”

Hanging her head, but smiling none the less, Xena called out: “Go ahead.”

The voice outside said pompously, “I. Have MANY skills.”

This was a final straw. Herodotus’ brain nearly exploded. “What the CRAP does **that MEAN???”**

Hecuba was too happy to worry about such details, of course. ”Now the Goddess told me that she has special and important task for our girls to perform, and to do it they must be completely alone. So, Seraphin? Would you be a dear and cut my daughter loose?” Then tugging on her husband’s coat, bubbling over the child, they exited the cellar. And our story.

Seraphin regarded the warrior with amusement as she freed her. “A task, huh? From the Goddess of Love? And you have to be alone? I bet it’s real hard work. Rolled up sleeves kind of stuff, huh?”

Outside they heard a familiar but very serious sounding voice explaining that everyone should be moved to a safe distance from the hut, and that they were to ignore any smashes, crashes, and especially any screams.

At this, Seraphin’s eyes grew much wider. ”Oh oh.... Xeee-na? Sounds like Gabrielle’s gonna wanta be on top this time. At least.”

Xena’s response was another example of her wide fluency in many languages, and Seraphin quickly exited as well.

Xena was just getting the circulation going in her arms and wrists when the door opened again. Six feet of barely restrained lust stood in the doorway. Xena swallowed, and raised her hand to give a weak wave. “’Lo Gab.”

Gabrielle closed the door and silently began to remove her bracers.

“Need any help?”

Nothing. Boots were next.

”Um. Gab. You know, I’ve really always tried to be... fair in our relationship. I don’t think anyone would accuse me of ALWAYS being, well, let’s call it, the dominant one...” Xena continued to babble as the Gabrielle silently and deliberately removed her armor. She did look up briefly, but continued to strip.

 


	6. Chapter 6

**The Conclusion**

 

Now the author would like to intrude for a moment. ( _Like you haven’t all along?_ *Quiet, you*)

Now if you remember, I think it was pretty clear that we were about to have a sex scene. We left Gabrielle, in Xena’s body, having been told by Aphrodite that sex was the only way to switch bodies again.

Why? After years of sweetness and warm humour did my story go this way? Blame the characters. And… I promised several individuals that for once I would write an explicit sex scene, something I have never done before.

There are two main reasons why there are no explicit sex scenes in my fiction.

**One:** I honestly believe that by definition the act of love is the most intimate of acts, and I feel uncomfortable writing, or even reading, descriptions of it involving persons I feel I know.

**Two** : I’m really bad at it.

So far my attempts have aroused little prurient interest, instead they’ve received unrestrained laughter.

But while I was pondering this challenge, I had the good fortune to be privy to a discussion by several respected authors on this very subject. It was their contention that there were only two ways to handle this sort of scene.

One: Describe the sensations of one of the participants,

Two: Describe the action as a sort of play by play.

The latter seemed easy enough. I can do play-by-play.

So ready?

**< Up Beat Theme music, Lots of Trumpets>**

“HELLO FELLOW XENITES AND ALL THE SHIPS AT SEA!”

“WELL, SALLY, IT LOOKS LIKE WE’RE GOING TO HAVE SEX, AND WHAT A BEAUTIFUL DAY IT IS FOR IT, TOO!

“THAT’S RIGHT BOB! Both players are in position, and it looks like foreplay is about to begin at any moment.”

“Tell us about the players, Sal!”

"Well, Bob. At this end we have the statuesque body of Xena, Warrior Princess of Amphipolis which temporarily houses the essence, or soul, of the Bard of Potadaia, Gabrielle. To make this all just a little less confusing...”

“Good luck with that, Sal...”

“....we will call her Potidaea. And over here is the height impaired Bard’s body playing hostess to Xena’s essence. She will be Amphipolis.”

“I think that most of our viewers are assuming that Xena’s body certainly has the advantage, especially where ‘reach’ is concerned.”

“Yes, but Gabrielle’s body has those large hands, which can often be a crucial factor where sexplay in concerned.”

“Ah, here we go folks. Gabrielle of Potadaia has got the bracers off and is now completely naked! And listen to that crowd! The readers seem very enthusiastic!

“You’ve certainly got that right, Bob! Now Xena of Amphipolis in Gabrielle’s body has moved to a defensive position behind a large oaken table, and apparently is attempting to reason with the opposition. And Yes... Gabrielle appears to be listening... but oh my! A beautiful move there, Potadaia has picked up the table and tossed it right across the room! Potadaia looking very strong right now. But Amphipolis ducks around the block and is going for the window!...but oh, no! In what may be an illegal move. she doesn’t quite make it!

“By the way, Sally, I’m sure the people at home would be interested to know about that table.”

“Yes Bob. The same hand-planed oaken top was last seen as an altar in the episode Chakram, and more recently...”

“Here’s the announcement many fans have been waiting for! The Halter top is off! It is official! I think Gabrielle’s going all the way!”

“Well, d’uh, Bob.”

“I think that’s going to count as a first down, advantage Potadaia, “

“You can see here on the replay that it was that moment of hesitation, and Amphipolis pays the price as she is hit HARD!”

“Well it’s definitely a first down and Potadaia has got lots of room...”

“Hold everything folks, Potadaia has called for a time out...”

_(“Xena? You’re okay with this, aren’t you? I mean...”_

_“Have I really been this, aggressive?”_

_“Well, there was that time...”_

_“Oh yeah... well I hadn’t... seen you in a while, and you had that skirt and started whispering how...”_

_“Uh huh. But you never forced me, and I wanted to make sure that I wasn’t...”_

_“Gabrielle. You know if you ever tell anyone about this, I will deny it. I get enough about what an ego I’ve got. But I almost came when you walked in the door. And not only that...”_

_“Xena? All I needed to know. Less talk, more action?”)_

 

“Okay, play has resumed, and it would appear that Amphipolis has elected to receive!”

“Sal, I didn’t hear any whistle, but it must be the close of the first quarter because they’re changing ends.”

“You know, Bob. I have to wonder whether Amphipolis really came here to win.”

“Doesn’t she win if she came?”

“Bob. You’re a pig.”

“Thank you Sal, I think it’s all in the amount of playing time the coach gives them.”

“What?”

“That’s a good question Sal, so we’re going to go down to the field of play, and see if we can talk to either of the participants...”

Well Sally, Bob, if I can just get through to ask Xena and Gabrielle.... it may take me a moment to get their attention, they seem to be complete absorbed in the action, but, yes, I think, yes, Gabrielle? I was wondering, no, I’m just doing my job, please OH MY GOD’S PLEASE NOT MY......................................

<<<<< WE’RE SORRY.....TECHNICAL DIFFICULTIES PREVENT US FROM CONTINUING THIS NARROWCAST>>>>>

Okay. So that’s not the most tasteful of scenes, and perhaps we should just move on and wrap this up quickly.

Quick montage on what happened to our characters.

 

Well, Drock and the surviving barbarians found their place in the world by forming the Known World Wrestling Federation

Lila? She was signed for an episode in season six.

Seraphin was convinced by Xena to run her dead fiancé as Head Reeve of Potadaia. He won. Seraphin was also elected to office, appropriately enough, Potadaia Squirrel Queen. They have no children as of yet, but she tells people they are still trying.

Tim the Enchanter was told to head to Potadaia where the perfect assistant was waiting for him.

As for our heroes…

Several body transforming climaxes later Gabrielle, once again blonde and undeniably cute, staggered outside with her still dazed partner, and nearly stumbled upon a certain couple of bodies, still somewhat more than dazed, lying apparently unconscious on the ground.

Gabrielle hung her head. “Oh God’s. I forgot about Arachnia. And Joxer. What are we supposed to do about them?”

Xena shrugged. “Well, from what you told me, she’s never going to give up. Maybe she needs a new target. There’s this guy that that owes me a favour, since he’d still alive and most people that tie me up are dead. I think I can convince him to take a partner...”

“You mean that nut ball Tim? The guy who’s after my Bachai Bunny? Why would Arachnia give up trying to serve Athena and join up with Tim?”

“It’s a feeling I have. From what you’ve told me about her, I think she’ll really want to blow up things and search for a wascally Wabbitt.”

“A wascally Wabbit?” Gabrielle grinned. ”Okay, but are you sure it’s safe to leave Arachnia with Joxer?”

“OH! You’re worried about leaving them alone because of Athena’s curse are you? That she might transform into some giant spider and start chewing on his testicles? Assuming....” The Warrior laughed.

“Please. No. The deal with Athena was that Arachnia only did it to her mate, so I guess he’s safe enough. Darn it.” Gabrielle gritted her teeth and gazed at the face so close to hers. “Xena? About the mustache...”

Xena placed both hands on her lover’s shoulders. “It’s okay, it’s already wearing off, Gabrielle... so I think we should just move on.”

“REALLY?” Gabrielle said suspiciously. “No paybacks? Who are you and what have you done to my Xena?””

Xena replied seriously. “After all we’ve just learned, I really think we should try to rise above petty things like paybacks, don’t you?”

Gabrielle looked at her partner and placed a hand on her forehead. Xena’s expression was bland and open. “Are you sure you’re all right?” Gabrielle asked. “You’re not feeling feverish...”

Xena answer was disarmingly sweet. “I think that some of your forgiveness has finally rubbed off on me.”

Joxer continued to pretend to be unconscious until they rode off, still picturing Gab’s naked bottom poised over him as she had changed. He wondered when Xena had found the time to get someone to tattoo words on those perfect cheeks. In two separate columns descending down the buttocks, Gabrielle’s butt had read, in permanent ink, **“PROPERTY OF**.... and beside it **IF FOUND, PLEASE RETURN TO...**

His angle hadn’t been enough to read the signature he was sure was at the base.

“X really does mark the spot,” he drooled.

The woman beside him moaned and opened her eyes. Arachnia looked about her in confusion. “My head, what happened? Who are you?”

Joxer blinked and then tried to seem concerned. “Don’t you recognize me?”

Arachnia looked at him helplessly “I, I don’t remember anything. I don’t think I know who I am, or anything!”

Joxer couldn’t believe his good fortune. Again! “Are you in luck! I just happen to be an export in recovering lost memories!”

“But who are you?”

“Silly, don’t you remember anything? I’m your husband!”

Arachnia felt a small pain inside her mouth, and grimaced. A strange desire took hold of her, and a smile forced its way onto her face. “Husband. Like Mate?” Four extra appendages began to very subtly morph out of her body.

Completely oblivious, because it’s what he does best, Joxer was able to smile in satisfaction. “Yes! You’re my little wifey! And Mate, you bet!”

Arachnia began to rise over the still prone wannabee, her eyes glittering.“Oh gooood. I think… I really… need… a mate right now...”

 

Xena pulled Argo to a halt and raised her hand. “Did you hear something?”

Gabrielle listened for a moment and shook her head. “Like what?”

The warrior shrugged. “I don’t know, screaming, cartilage tearing, bones crunching. That sort of thing.”

“Anything we should worry about?”

“Nah, best we go get Eve and head out again.”

”Okay!”

And the sun continued to shine. The very few clouds continue to glide across the sky, and soon all of the bones were chewed, the gore licked up and a certain character was nothing more than a potential burp.

See? It really was a nice day!

Hehehe...


End file.
